


The Wine Bar

by Lapinporokoira



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Babies, But it's not always a bad thing, Elephant In The Room, F/M, Gen, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, Surprises, The Universe has it out for Arnold J. Rimmer, There is no OC, Throwing dart tags, minifics, poorly, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:45:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8387698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapinporokoira/pseuds/Lapinporokoira
Summary: Welcome to Red Dwarf's finest wine bar. I hope you enjoy your time here. We have a wide selection.  Today's special is a sweet and gentle non alcoholic beverage. We call it Words are like a river that flows in all directions but inevitably takes turns we do not expect and wish we hadn't.





	1. Gift Basket

**Author's Note:**

> I have an admission. I don't think I'm a good writer. But this was fun to write anyway even if it's bad in places and my characterisation is probably off. But enjoy. I have more Red Dwarf idea's planned. The title is an inspiration for one I want to write in the near future.

The pounding in his head felt like two sumo wrestlers fighting over the last Toffee Crisp. Lister groaned. Grinding the pillow into his head to alleviate the thumping of sweaty fat slapping against his skull. The pillow barely muffled the noise. It was rather persistent. 

Cassandra the buxom blonde teetering on the edge of his dream pouted at his distraction. She cooed for his attention again and when Lister managed to turn away from a near mesmeric flapping of folds, she slipped off a strap of her nearly see through bra and smiled in a come hithery way. The poor thing. Her other strap refused to budge from it's nestled place on the right shoulder and Lister couldn't leave the Dark haired temptress being bound by her own bra. No-one should be held hostage by their own clothing. His hand reached out, ghosting over the shoulder, only to slip past and grab the handle of a door that appeared in her place. The door shook as someone on the other side tried to beat their way through it. 

Lister opened an eye feeling the crust of sleep sprinkle out like dandruff. Were they still outside his room?! He squinted in the direction of the clock and groaned again. It was far too early for this racket. It wasn't even 3.30pm yet! It seemed they were not going away unless someone answered the door and whoever it was had better not have permanently chased off his half naked dream babe and sent her into the arms of those sumo wrestlers. 

“Alright alright. Do you know what the smegging time is?!” 

He grumbled out. Voice thick and low and peeved. The knocking abruptly stopped followed by the briefest of silences. Then suddenly the sound of pattering feet could be heard scampering off down the hallway. Lister sighed dramatically. Smegging hell. It must have been for his bunkmate. Not that Rimmer was popular, or even had friends. Or a friend. Or an acquaintance. Or someone who even said hello to him in passing. It was just a someone. Someone who thought it was perfectly acceptable to knock and knock and knock until they got a reaction. They could have at least had the courtesy to remember Lister was stuck living in the same room. 

Lister wrapped his hands over his forehead and moaned. Not only was he awoken from a wonderful sexy dream but he had not slept through his banging hangover from his over indulgence yesterday. The pulsing in his brow meant Lister was not going back to sleep any time soon now. 

Unfortunately for Lister there was no full proof cure for the mariachi band hangover he had. Or ever will be. An attempt to create a cure had been banned after one science experiment ended up with creating a side effect instead with the Rosie O'Donnel virus that wiped out an entire Alaskan Science lab. That incident was referred to as the O'Donnel party. May those poor souls rest in peace. 

With sleep at a loss Lister flopped off his top bunk and staggered as the room flipped him over and swung him around and taught him the Macarena backwards. The world was a little wonky when he eventually steadied himself but at least it had stopped moving. As he slowly came back to reality Lister felt his curiosity peak over his irritated shoulder. If one was likely to knock like a madman to get the occupants attention Lister knew it wouldn't be beyond them to redecorate the door as well. Yellow or brown never really worked well with the grey of the corridors. 

The hallway he observed was empty and a quick whiff didn't perk up au de Urinal cake. He sniffed again just in case, straining his minimal olfactory senses to their very limit to the point a couple threw in the towel and jumped deep into the chasm of Lister's nasal cavity to their doom. Their loss was minimal. The ones that survived though failed to pick up anything bodily excreted that wasn't uniquely Lister that was but that didn't stop the niggle Lister felt. Just to be doubly sure he looked down to see if he had his foot anywhere near a deposit. He blinked though when he saw something on the floor he wasn't expecting at all. It was a basket. Someone had left a basket by the door. Curious. 

Not one to say no to freebies Lister hefted the basket up by it's handles, (once again caught off this time by the weight of it) and took it back into the room to place on the table that was mostly used to Rimmer's cramming sessions of books or of Listers feet. It stood out in it's wicker form against the cold metal. Lister scratched his head and eyeballed it. His initial reaction of oooh free stuff was suddenly switched as he realised staring at it's strangeness against the rest of the room that it might contain something not so wanted. Like a badly wrapped Christmas present that looked like a bicycle but in fact turned out to be a garish bright red sweater with a Santa Clause stitched into the front looking like he had a preference for vans in dark alleys then jingling sledges. 

There was also the fact that whoever left it had run off pretty sharpish. Overall it was looking less present like and more ominous. But Lister being Lister, and still ever so slightly drunk shrugged off any trepidation. Nothing ventured nothing gained as the saying went as Lister opened the basket top and peered inside. Huh?

The number of people who could have left the basket was drastically reduced as he stared at the contents. At least half the Red Dwarf's crew could be easily scrapped unless there was something Lister was not privy to from the science department. Those guys were crazy. The other half he could probably whittle down some but with his alcohol addled escapades he couldn't rule any of them out either. Whilst Lister's brain was doing it's own form of work out the door to the bunk room slid open and a pair of nostrils stormed into the room. 

“Toddhunter is such a smeghead.” The nostrils whined nasally. “The man's word is not worth the air he breaths.” 

The rest of the man the nostrils belonged to shuffled about the room, ignoring Lister entirely even as he whined to him. Lister himself was perfectly fine with that as his eye caught something else of interest in the basket. 

“I gave him those forms weeks ago. How on Io he managed to lose them in the waste pipe of L deck is beyond me. Toddhunter an officer?” He snorted. “ Not likely. Man can't even tie his shoelaces. Probably. “

The frustrated man looked into the mirror and tried his best sneer before grabbing a comb from the sink with a nice neat sticky note labelled Arnold J Rimmer and attempted to comb the mop of curls on his head that rebelled by attempting a poor imitation of a jack in the box every time the teeth scraped over it. Lister felt a palpable sense of relief followed by an intense feeling of glee 

“When I become an officer I won't be having any of that laziness. I'll run a tight ship, millado.” 

“Rimmer.” 

This was going to be interesting.

“No place for slackers and incompetence.”

“Rimmer”

“Of course that means I'll be firing you Lister and dumping you on the nearest rock in case you infect the rest of the crew.” 

“Rimmer”

“I wonder how many disease do you have now?”

“Rimmer!”

Rimmer felt a twinge in his leg that started it dancing to it's own tune as he finally recognised the voice and presence of the other person in the room as an actual entity. He turned around and felt his mouth muscles move in distaste at the wreck of a human being in front of him. 

“It's rude to interrupt your superior. ” He whined angrily. 

Lister merely lifted his head from staring at the basket's innards and faced towards Rimmer. There was something in the man's eyes that left the older one wary. 

“You might want to check this out.” Lister said through upturned lips. 

Rimmer looked at the new decoration to the room and found himself scowling more. 

“I would rather lick Todhunter's boots then put my face anywhere near your unmentionables.” 

There was just something in the way Lister's eyes glinted in merriment that put Rimmer's back up. The man was a slob and a practical joker. 

“Nah man. It ain't my laundry. It's not even mine. Someone left it here.”

Despite what the professors at Io college, Rimmer was no idiot. He wasn't going to be fooled by this obvious ruse to prank him. No way. 

“Are you saying it's a gift basket? You know Hollister did give me a pat on the back the other day. No doubt for my service to the mission. The man would of course see fit to gift me something of more value too.”

Inside Rimmer's ever eternal conflict, it ascended a level. The self satisfaction of being praised was pummelling his tiny common sense into submission. It's last gasps lost in Rimmer's ego. His back folded like a cheap garden table before it had even left the garden centre. 

“Well scoot you imbecile. I'm not sharing my gift basket with you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it” Lister grinned. “It's ALL yours mate.”

Rimmer failed to grasp the emphasis as he barged past Lister to get his just rewards. He pulled back the cover Lister had dropped back, with excitement at possible exotic fruits or maybe an officers uniform! He must have really passed the last astronavigation exam and the whole You failed was just a ruse to surprise him later. Well Rimmer took one look into that basket and certainly got a surprise. 

Lister watched as Rimmer's face took on the skittles challenge. The colour drained from his face turning his rather unpleasant features into something out of a zombie movie. He stared fascinated as the pasty look faded back into a reddish colour, followed by a very reddish colour before finally settling on a Neapolitan of mid red with white accents. It looked painful. 

“You alright there?”

Rimmer didn't acknowledge Lister, his entire focus downwards. 

“Ah” he said. 

Lister tried again. Rimmer twitched. There was a small cry. 

“Gzzt” 

Lister felt the faintest twinge of concern. Maybe Rimmer had broken down like the vending machines frequently did. But that concern was fleeting . This was too priceless to waste it on caring about Rimmer's feelimgs. 

“That's some gift basket.” He chuckled. 

As if on rusty springs Rimmer turned to look at Lister. His face stuck in that excruciating shade and his nostrils flaring wide like a mimian escorts 's underwear. Then it creaked back and his arms delved into the basket to pull the contents up to face level. It squirmed in the awkward way it was held and snuffled. 

“That Lister.” Rimmer's mechanoid voice supplied. “Is a baby.”

“I know”

“Why is there a baby in my gift basket?”

“Well you see there is this stork and...”

“There is a baby in my gift basket.”

“I know Rimmer.” Lister shrugged. 

“A baby.”

“Yes.”

“In my”

“I know man.”

“Gift basket” 

“And it's ALL yours, you dirty dog.” Lister smiled

Rimmer's leg spasmed , his left eyebrow tried to escape and his nose hairs twanged like a rastabilly skank concert. Yet his hold remained steady on the baby that was starting to grumble. 

“It's not possible.”

“..”

“Don't mention storks!” Rimmer's gruffed. Something of a personality clambering back into his voice. 

“I know where babies come from.” He whined petulantly even as he adjusted his hold so that baby wasn't dangling as much. 

“I mean...”

“Look, Rimmer. It's fine by me. No man is a desert island disc.”

“But it's not supposed to happen the one time.”

“You must suck in bed if women will only sleep with you once. ” Lister was enjoying this far too much. 

“I finally have sex with a woman and she gets pregnant?!”

Lister froze and rewound that sentence. And rewound it again. And then a third time for luck. He swore he was going to break his mouth if it split any wider. This was rich. And a revelation. So much potential for later ribbing. It could last him the whole trip back to Earth and then some. 

The baby scrunched his face a little in threat if a full blown crying session. Instinct or simply wanting to avoid that added stress of a screaming child, Rimmer settled the baby back in it's cocoon of blankets.

“This is a mistake” He told himself, the room, Lister and the entire Universe. Nervously eyeing the envelope with his name roughly labelled on it's front. It had to be a mistake. The letter would prove it. 

Lister watched as Rimmer tore the envelope open in a near panicked haste and devoured the words on the folded piece of paper within. There was no relief on Rimmer's face when he dropped the letter on the table next to the basket afterwards. If anything his pallor returned as he slumped on the hard metal chair near by. 

“Lister I blame you entirely.” He said morosely. 

Lister took no offence. 

“You could blame me but let's be honest here. My tackle isn't designed for getting pregnant and I wouldn't sleep with you even if you were the last human being alive.”

Lister awaited a retort back but Rimmer remained stubbornly quiet. It was quite a shock after all. The silence was soon dashed when the baby started to whine with hunger. His voice babbling close to tears. Amusing as this all was Lister didn't like to see a baby unhappy and went to cheer the little guy up but before he could move Rimmer finally spoke up again. 

“Don't.”

Lister frowned at his bunkmate, wanting to tell him off for ignoring the baby when he saw something in Rimmer's eyes. Something indefinable but certainly not very Rimmerlike that gave him pause. 

“You're hands probably smell like sweat roasted sweaters. It's disgusting. “

Lister watched bemused as Rimmer forced himself back to his feet again and reluctantly towards the basket. 

“You're like a walking back alley pharmaceutical. Algae in a thrush infected lady garden. A twenty five year old pus filled spot about ready to explode with mucous juices... The white poo...”

“Alright. Alright I get it. I'm too disgusting to be touching a baby” 

Lister took a whiff just in case and couldn't deny he was due a shower again in the next month or two. 

“And don't you forget it, miladdo.”

“So..” Lister said awkwardly. Suddenly finding himself on the back foot this time. “Does Rimmer Jnr have a name?”

Rimmer tried his best not to flinch as he looked at the babe and offered a finger for him to grab. This was raw. So raw and he was going to have a cry later for definite, but for now he was working on some slither of blind zen. To regain some modicum of normalcy. Not the time to think of the larger implications. Best to start small. Rimmer could do small. Like say a name. 

“He's called Michael McGruder Rimmer” 

That wasn't so bad, he thought. I can do this, he thought. I'm a smegging father! He thought! What would the neighbours say?! He THOUGHT! MY CAREER, HE THOUGHT! 

And with no room left for thinking, his brain shut down and Rimmer wilted to the floor in a dead faint.


	2. Bosom Buddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another wine to taste. This one is sweet and tangy and melancholic with Rimmer being a stubborn smeghead who is too stubborn to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Separate universe from the Michael Rimmer one. Unless I find a way to connect them that is.

“Miriam says the Supernova has a tennis court. Can finally see if those lessons I had back in college are up to muster.”

Typical. Zounderkite gets a new placement and she's thinking about skiving off the moment she's there. No work ethic that woman, Rimmer thought. He plucked his cobalt blue pen to shade in his study hours for Wednesdays. It looked good next to Tuesday's viridian. 

“I hear tell that the Supernova's Captain wants to assess my aptitude tests himself. Ted thinks it's a good sign I might be considered for a higher position once I'm settled.”

No doubt the Captain would find her writing rather hideous. Rimmer always found Zounderkite's chicken scrawl a barely legible mess. Like her general attitude to cleanliness. Clothes often strewn about the floor and her toothbrush turning up in all sorts of places it most certainly didn't belong. He frowned as the pen tip slipped a bare millimetre over the line. Now it looked wonky. Maybe if he coloured over the space above with a darker shade of blue to fix it? Azure? No. Too close in shade. Navy. Navy could work. He went into his pen stash to find it. 

“The AI, Harvey, isn't as advanced as Holly but they say he's got a heck of a range on radio frequencies. I can keep in contact with the Red Dwarf no matter how deep we go.”

Rimmer made a non committal Hmm. The Jupiter Mining Corporation was a business. They would hardly spend millions of pounds on an AI just so the crew could have late night gossip sessions across bandwidths. So very much Zounderkite to think so little of the costs and importance of vital ship equipment. Like the time she filled the soup machine with bubble bath instead. Soap not soup she had said, and laughed as bubbles filled the corridor and coated Rimmer's trousers that made it look like he had wet himself. She had been looking at him when she laughed too. 

He grimaced as the Navy made the little three and four pm numbers on Tuesday almost unreadable. How was he supposed to tell what that time was at a glance? You would have to squint to read them. Zounderkite hummed gently in the background as she folded her clothes oblivious to Rimmer's dilemma. He considered getting a black pen to just thicken the numbers a little to be legible. But that would mean doing it for every number on the planner and that would take him weeks if not months to finish.

“If you stare any harder at that sheet of paper your eyes will pop out. You know eye strain gives you migraines. Good job I stocked up on Aspirin in the medical cabinet. You study way too hard so I know you'll need it.”

Rimmer hunched his shoulders trying to close himself off from the distraction. Zounderkite could be too friendly. Most people on the Red Dwarf even liked her but Rimmer knew that nobody could be that nice without some ulterior motive. Not that she had ever shown any ulterior motives but that was how they lured you in, by trying to get you to let your guard down before pouncing. Zounderkite liked pouncing. Mostly on Miriam. Where was that black highlighter at? Rimmer needed to concentrate on getting his study planner perfect not on who Zounderkite dated. 

“You know. Now that I'm being transferred and being promoted to the Engineering division the position for First Technician is open. I thought I would put in an recommendation for you, Arnold.”

A pitying and pitiful attempt at being nice again, Rimmer thought trying not to grimace. It was also an empty gesture. When he passed his astronavigation exam he would be catapulted straight into Officer level. First Technician would only be a temporary measure. Best let the Captain fill it with someone of inferior talent. Except he didn't open his mouth to say that as he began to carefully follow the letters with the black pen he had picked up instead. His brow creasing in concentration that combined with his grimace made him look constipated. 

“It's like talking to myself sometimes.” She sighed before starting to put the clothes she had been folding into her suitcase. 

Rimmer hunched down in his chair to focus on getting that line just right. He ignored that mild guilt he felt when he heard the despondency in her voice. Women could be so emotional sometimes. Zounderkite had plenty of friends who would be happier to listen to her talk instead. Filling in the final symbol it didn't look too bad. The rest just needed to match to make it just right. Why did she always manage to use him as a sounding board? It wasn't like they were a couple. Should he go back to colour coding or continue with the black highlighter? He had fancied her a bit the first time he saw her. She had a very pretty face. All smooth dark skin and a beaming smile. He decided to go back to filling in the boxes. He couldn't deny he had been a little disappointed when he saw her holding hands with Miriam from hydroponics. More so when three months after he fell for her at first sight she had confessed to him that she and Miriam were getting serious. He switched to a cherry red for Thursday. 

“Well unless I'm forgetting anything else I guess I'm all packed,”

Yes you are forgetting something, Rimmer thought but did not say as the pen he held marred the paper under his firm hold. She had forgotten to say if she had gotten the capsule or tablet Aspirin. He would rather swallow capsules then tablets for the slight sting in his eyes that had developed from his attention on the planner in front of him. He hated when she was right. He had told her that once and she had smiled disarmingly and winked at him. “If I was a Nascar driver, I would hate being right too, Arnold.” She said and laughed. Alicia Zounderkite had a sweet laugh that you couldn't help but smile at. Her jokes however were terrible. 

“You know. I'm going to miss this pokey little room.” 

She put a hand on Rimmer's shoulder. He studiously avoiding looking at it. He really needed that aspirin, his eyes were stinging something fierce and his planner was looking like a blurred mess of colour.

“I was told I'll still be bunking. Miriam would be so jealous if I was bunked with a sexy woman with legs for days. You know how she is. She wouldn't be happy unless I was bunked with some porky middle aged man with smelly feet. Fingers crossed for the hotty.”

She squeezed his shoulder and Rimmer felt a lurch of sickness. He must have the beginnings of a cold. That would explain the stinging eyes and why he was starting to feel a clenching of emotion that refused to abate. Of course that emotion could just be something he picked up from Zounderkite. He was reminded of one day when she had come back to their room, half drunk and stumbling. Tears down her face and a look of abject misery. She had collapsed on his bunk and hugged him. Crying into his shoulder as she mumbled miserably about how Miriam had just dumped her for the tart in data analysis. He had awkwardly patted her back and made a very poor attempt of comforting her with talks about fishes and seas and not to drink salt water to why on Io were all in one pyjamas a thing but by the end she had stopped crying and almost smiling again. Not long after that and Alicia Zounderkite was being offered a promotion from First technician of the Red Dwarf to a role as an entry level engineer on the Supernova and she snapped it up. Rimmer knew she wanted to get some space from her ex but he couldn't help but feel a little hurt by how quickly she accepted the offer. It didn't help that it reminded him of his own lack of promotion. 

“I know you're going to pass that Astronavigation exam this time. Just wait and see Arnold. This time next year I'll be leading an Engineering team and you'll be an officer. Just don't study too hard.” 

Rimmer realised he hadn't been using his pen for a while as Alicia removed her hand and he heard her walk away to gather her belongings. He looked down at his planner. The colours clashed. The three to four pm he had traced over in black pen looked like a monkey had tried to create Braille with it's own faeces. And there was a tear from where he had pushed his pen down too hard. It was a complete disaster. He would have to start again. Alicia's faith in his ability to pass was woefully misplaced. He was going to have less then three months now to study up. He should tell her it may take a little longer to pass his exam. 

“Starbug leaves in less then half an hour. So I better get going.”

Yes Rimmer should tell her. But first he needed a clean sheet to work from. Alicia Zounderkite walked towards the door. 

“ Well I guess it's Goodbye for now.”

His pens were a mess, Rimmer decided to tidy them up first. That part was louder then the smaller voice in his head telling to say goodbye or he'll regret it. 

“Like I said. Harvey has a good range. I'll try and contact you once I'm settled.”

That was better. His pens neatly lined up. His eyes were stinging so bad they dropped spots of wetness on the ruined page of his planner. Alicia Zounderkite was a cruel woman to leave him when he needed her most. Her kind voice like nails. But at least his work area was tidy. 

Alicia stood at the door, uncertain. 

“Good luck, Arnold.”

Good luck indeed. Such good luck to have a senior officer who was kind and smiled all the time and spoke to him as a person despite his caustic personality. Good luck to find a woman who was pretty and fun and willing to give him a chance as a friend and colleague. Good luck to find such a person who was now leaving him for pastures new and breaking his heart in the process. A woman whose voice was a little sad in her last words and one he was going to miss terribly. To hell with his planner. It was ruined anyway. He needed to say goodbye to his best friend before she went. 

Rimmer finally looked away from the table to turn to the door. Finally willing to get out of his stubborn funk to say some final words. Only for the doorway to be empty. She had gone. Arnold J Rimmer what a smeghead. He banged his head against the table and let it rest there. He was a failure in life and a failure as a friend. Whilst stewing in his own self loathing he didn't hear the door swish open and footsteps walking towards him. It was only when he sensed a presence that he looked up. Alicia Zounderkite looked at him with a mixture of a frown and a smile on her face. 

“Are you going to hug me goodbye or not?” She eventually said and Rimmer couldn't resist the invitation. He scraped his chair back, stood up and carefully and awkwardly put his arms around his best friend and squeezed until his own tears fell onto her shoulder. 

“Now that's better.” She said smiling proper now. Despite a glisten in her eyes. 

“I hope were not going to make this a regular thing.” Rimmer sniffled. 

“I thought you were by the book ?” Alicia grinned. 

Rimmer pulled back and tried to pretend he didn't have tears in his eyes. 

“I don't think there is a Space Corp Directive for this. “

“You never know. The Space Corp Directive is like the Guinness book of world records. There's always an updated version coming out.” She laughed out loud. Pleased at yet another bad joke. 

Rimmer smiled back. Alicia always had a laugh that you couldn't help smiling at. He was going to miss her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this one was a little different when I imagined it in my head. I think I might have preferred the original concept where it was shorter (maybe three paragraphs) and Rimmer was far more scathing as a means to deny what he really felt about her but I definitely like the OC character I created here more. She developed a bit of a personality. She was originally called Alice Rabscuttle but it wasn't quite working for me on first or last name. Alice sounded a little too plain. And Zounderkite came about as I was looking for old time insults. It's Victorian for Idiot and it felt like a good Red Dwarf type name and it sounds pretty cool. She was nearly a Rantallion but I felt kind of bad for calling a character after an extra long scrotum. So yeah Alicia Zounderkite is/was Rimmer's Lesbian BFF. 
> 
> Also I very very nearly ended it with Rimmer missing his chance to say goodbye. But that felt too cruel.


	3. Smeg

Lister had finally learned not to bat an eyelid every time he came back to the bunks and saw Rimmer holding his son. Who would have guessed a man with more neurosis then a Dr Phil concert could take to being a single parent? 

Initially it had taken some time to adjust, but after a bout of fainting and denial since Rimmer first discovered his new status in the familial department, he had been quite surprising in his acceptance.   
Of course the man had informed Captain Hollister once he could actually form a complete sentence whilst conscious. And that meeting turned out to be an eye opener for all involved. Lister fully expected Rimmer to cajole and weasel and whine at the Captain until he agreed to take the child to the nearest populated outpost and out of his life. And Lister was more then willing to argue against that. The baby had already been abandoned by his mother and Lister loathed the idea of the child being dumped again (like he had) even if it meant he would have to endure the embarrassment of having Rimmer as his father. But instead of taking up the Captain's suggestion of something very much in that vein, Rimmer had outright refused to relinquish the child from his care. 

The cajoling and weaselling and whining ended up coming from Captain Hollister instead. All very sound arguments to be sure with the most prevalent being that this was Rimmer they were talking about. Rimmer knew that perfectly well, yet there was something in the way he spoke, the way he held himself, the way he argued for custody that told Lister, Rimmer was deadly serious. In the end there was nothing the Captain could do otherwise. JMC regulations allowed for infants to be onboard and unless Rimmer relinquished his paternal rights he was well within his remit to care for the baby. The nursery on the ship was not just for decoration. 

Despite everyone's fears including the new father as it all sank in, Rimmer proved a revelation in the parenting department much to Lister's chagrin. The small closet they called a room was festooned with baby stuff. Anything deemed a threat to the baby's well being was banned, in other words, Lister's things. Not even his guitar had been safe on the grounds if played it would traumatise the baby and/or cause him hearing impairment. Lister complained a couple of times as bits and pieces of his things started to be replaced with rattles and baby bottles and nappies but Rimmer shut that down pretty quick. There was an almost mania the way the man went about things that Lister began to suspect the extreme precautions were a way for Rimmer to focus his attentions away from the reality of what he had talked himself into. It was too much hassle to deal with that breakdown so Lister just let Rimmer get on with it after a while. 

Things did eventually settle into a semi sane status quo to where it was now with Rimmer sitting in his desk chair feeding his son from a bottle and Lister loudly turning the pages of a full spread edition of PlayMinx as he lounged on his bunk. 

Lister hummed appreciatively at the centrefold of last years May edition. The pages were frayed at the edges from much use and the paper crinkled with a stiffness from repeated exposure to damp conditions. She was a very nice looking woman with curves in all the right places and a sort of pixie look about her face. If he looked hard enough Lister could almost hear her purr. Could almost hear her hum... Rimmer was doing it again. 

“Stop it.”

“Stop what, Lister?”

“You know. It.”

“I do not know what, it, is. Lister.”

“What you always do, Rimmer. The way you sneer words of disapproval at me without opening your gob. Like I just farted in your face and the only thing stopping you from going ballistic on me is the thought of breathing it in.”

“Going a bit paranoid there, Listy. At your rate they'll be writing books about you and wondering how a man with so few braincells is even alive. Maybe even a series. I can see the books now; David Lister and the Chamber of lost brains. David Lister and the Philosophers quandary. Hmm, David Lister and the half pint of beer. They'll end up as loo roll for public toilets and making people wish for the good old days of laminated paper. ”

Rimmer adjusted the bottle in his hand as Michael began to fuss as more air then milk was being consumed. His sneer broke away into something softer as his son caught his full attention again and Lister became wallpaper to him.

“It's ok, Mikey. Daddy's got you.” 

It was almost too adorable for Lister. The way Rimmer's voice flipped from his usual nasal grousing to a softer and kind coo. A tone that was very foreign to the uptight Second Technician. Lister couldn't help the smile on his face. It was actually nice to see this side of Rimmer. 

“ You keep talking like that Rimmer and you'll be raking in the ladies.”

Rimmer glanced disparagingly at Lister. 

“As opposed to your gorilla noises I assume?”

There was a little less bite this time. But still Rimmer. Lister took it for what it was. Rimmer's approximation of mate baiting. 

“Hey those ladies love my impressions.”

“I thought you used them as a pick up line?”

Lister snorted. Of course Rimmer would think that. 

“No, man. They smegging love it. Makes them go all tingly. “

Rimmer glared. 

“Don't use that word.”

Confused Lister scratched his head. 

“What? Tingly?”

Rimmer ignored him for a moment pulling the empty bottle away from his son and rocked the little boy to burp him. 

“No you Moron. The other word. “

“Smegging?”

Rimmer sneered again. 

“Yes. THAT word. Now stop saying it.”

“Well, why not?” Lister spoke back as he sat up to dangle his legs off the bunk. 

“Because, you Neanderthal. I don't want Michael hearing it. This room is Strictly a U rating. ” 

Oh, Lister thought. Then he felt a hint of irritation. Rimmer was dictating again. 

“You could have at least consulted me on the age rating. This is MY room too you know.”

“And now it's Michaels as well.”

Rimmer retorted with a strong finality. Lister couldn't argue with that really but he did so anyway. Rimmer brought out the worst in him. 

“As Michael is here maybe you should start paying for the room and board.“

The face of the taller man darkened as he swapped the empty bottle for a rattle. 

“You expect a child not even a year old to pay his keep? The JMC doesn't even recruit anyone younger then sixteen. You'll be waiting a long time for that cheque.” 

Trust Rimmer to think literally. 

“Of course not. I expect you to pay it. And who the smeg uses cheques these days?”

“Smeg”

The room went deathly silent.

Rimmer blinked and Lister surreptitiously coughed. 

“I really hope I didn....”

“Smeg”  
Rimmer's face started to go bright red. Lister felt his go pale. Michael beamed at both in his baby like smile as he discovered his first word. 

“Smeg!”

“Lister.”

Lister jumped down from his bunk. 

“Smeg!”

“Listerrrrr”

Lister started taking steps towards the door.

“Smeg smeg smeg smeg smeg!”

Rimmer's tomato shaded face looked towards his subordinate. His nostrils flaring a dime a dozen and his eyes pinpricked into slits. Lister swallowed thickly as his steps to the door got faster. 

“Lister!”

“SMEG!”

Lister Ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was partly written AGES ago. Felt the compulsion to finish it.


End file.
